Xtreme WWE Desire
by EmBeR3
Summary: Jeff Hardy is having doubts about his career in the WWE...why should he even go on?


WWE Desire  
  
***I wrote this story a while back when there were rumours about Jeff Hardy missing shows and stuff but I kinda like it so I thought I'd put it on here. I heard a rumour last week that he'd been fired too but I dunno what's going on with that cos I don't go on wrestling sites because of spoilers so sorry if I step on anyone's toes here. Oh, and I actually love the Rock, Hurricane and Stone Cold so don't get mad please :)***   
  
Jeff Hardy was slumped on a cold, hard wooden bench in a damp locker room. His gym bag lay unopened beside him and with only an hour to prepare for his match, he was still wearing some baggy black pants and an orange sweatshirt. He leant his head against the poorly painted wall and let out a sigh. He wasn't sure what the sigh was an expression of. Frustration? Anger? Misery? Loneliness? Maybe all of them at once.   
  
He closed his eyes and pictured the peaceful cornfields of North Carolina. He remembered sitting there as a boy, playing the tall blades of fresh grass with his fingers, smelling the clear air and lying back on the soft mattress of vegetation, staring up at the each of the cotton clouds set in the perfect blue sky. He was almost there now. He could feel the quiet breeze on his warm skin, hear the buzzing of busy insects and the songs of contented birds in the distant trees. He reached his hand forward to grasp at a blade of grass beside his head...  
  
"Jeff, what the hell are you doin'?!"   
  
Matt. He'd recognise that voice anywhere.   
  
The younger Hardy brother opened his eyes and sat up, his back flat and straight against the wall.  
  
"50 minutes 'til your match and you've not even started to get ready?" Matt asked, knowing the answer.  
  
Matt paced the small area of floor in front of his brother for a few moments, not knowing what to say. Jeff sat with his arms folded tight and close to his chest. His eyes were set on the tiled floor, strains of purple hair hanging down over his face and shoulders. Occasionally, Matt's feet passed by, but Jeff didn't budge. The Hurricane? Jeff would bet money that he would have to put that superhero wannabe over too. He'd busted his ass so many times for this company, he'd performed stunts that upper-carders like the Rock and Stone Cold could only dream of doing. And what did he get? He got to lose to Gregory Helms, a newcomer. Vince had made him a singles competitor alright. A jobber, that's what he was now and he resented it. He refused to stick around whilst the ruthless McMahon family moulded him into the next Brooklyn Brawler.   
  
It was decided. There was no way he was stepping onto the other side of that curtain tonight. He pulled his gym bag up onto his shoulder and got to his feet, not looking up.  
  
"I'm not going out there tonight, Matt. Tell Greg I'm sorry," he said apologetically.  
  
Matt stopped in his tracks and looked at his brother. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could Jeff was gone. Matt forced his fist into one of the lockers nearby. What was with that brother of his thinking? He seriously needed to get his head checked.  
  
Jeff walked down the corridor swiftly, hoping to avoid a confrontation with any members of the McMahon clan, Vince in particular. If Vince caught him walking out on a show there would be hell to pay. Of course, no matter what he did to avoid the giant of sports entertainment he would have to pay eventually, he just wasn't in the frame of mind to write the cheque just now. He caught sight of Amy in the corner of his eye. She was stretching out next to the wall of the corridor. He didn't stop, but this didn't prevent Amy enquiring about his intentions.  
  
"Jeff, where are you going?" she asked, standing up and jogging to his side.  
  
"Home," was his blunt reply.  
  
"You mean the hotel, right?" Amy stopped and stared after her friend as he continued to stride down the hallway.  
  
"No. I mean home."  
  
"Matt!" Amy called out, starting to run towards the door Jeff had just stepped out of. "Call Beth!" Beth was Jeff's girlfriend, he always called her when he felt down or when he needed reassurance. But this time it didn't matter. In a few hours he'd be in her arms and he could shut out the rest of the world, especially the wrestling part.   
  
A few minutes later Jeff was at the wheel of his black Corvette and was speeding down the deserted freeway that ran past the arena. The radio was blasting through his car and through his head. He always listened to the radio on the road. He found that the noise got into his head and pushed out any thoughts. Thinking was dangerous he had found. Thinking only made him realise how miserable he really was.  
  
Tonight though, as he drove, no amount of rock music could drown his thoughts. He was through with the WWE. No, not just the WWE - this whole business. He couldn't stand it any longer. He pictured laying beside a fire in a dark house, his head on Beth's knee. He could smell her perfume, feel her soft hand stroking his face. He wanted to be normal again. He wanted to be able to walk out on the street without being swarmed by female fans. He wanted to write his poetry for himself and not have it published in magazine articles designed to boost his popularity rather than be honest. He wanted to be where he belonged...  
  
"This next song goes out to Jeff and was requested by his girlfriend Beth in North Carolina. And Jeff, if you're listening she says you know where you should be"  
  
Jeff listened to the radio in disbelief. It had to be his Beth. She'd dedicated this song to him. He guessed she was letting him know that he was welcome at home. Traces of tears formed in his eyes, though he didn't know why. He listened to the words of the song.  
  
"Hello my friend we meet again, it's been a while, where do we begin? Feels like forever. Within my heart are memories of perfect love that you gave to me, oh I remember...."  
  
Jeff could see different pictures in his head now. He was still in North Carolina, but he was with Matt. He remembered how he and his brother had played at wrestling on their trampoline. He could almost hear Matt's laughter as he watched his younger sibling fail at an attempted moonsault. Then he heard his own laughter, almost felt that he was smiling. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his head and tried to think about anything non-wrestling, but the song continued...  
  
"When you are with me...I'm free...I'm careless...I believe. Above all the others, we'll fly. This brings tears to my eyes, my sacrifice..."   
  
He remembered the first time he and Matt lifted the WWE tag team belts above their heads. He felt his brother's arms wrapped around him, he could see the indescribable feeling of joy and accomplishment in his eyes, and he could feel that he mirrored Matt's emotions. He heard Jim Ross' voice crying out "Matt and Jeff Hardy have done it! They have climbed to the top of the WWE tag Team Mountain!" He remembered the tag team ladder match at Wrestlemania, the electricity that filled the arena as he climbed atop a ladder, the way he felt as he grabbed the bag hanging from the rafters and fell to the mat, how he Matt, Adam and Jay had embraced tearfully backstage.  
  
"We've seen our share of ups and downs, how quickly life can turn around, in an instant. It feels so good to reunite..."  
  
Jeff slammed his foot down on the brake pedal as hard and fast as he could. The car screeched to a halt and for a second or two he sat, hands firmly grasping the wheel, breathing heavily. He did want to be where he belonged and he now knew exactly where he was. Only 10 minutes after leaving, Jeff Hardy turned his car around and headed back towards the arena to do the one thing he was born to do - wrestle. 


End file.
